We Ride Or Die chords by J.R. Writer
Verse 1
Am
D
Am
D
Check,
Am
check, check,
D
Am
D
check, check
Harlem, diss set, writer's block
Where we at, uh?
Am
Come on, these lil' guys a gimmick
The writers dig it if I gotta spit it
My rhymes and lyrics out of space
D
Fuck sky's the limit, look I'm a menace
I make one call, you guys are finished
Blow your brains all over your office
Am
Now mind your business, I'm the illest
How could you ignore the beat?
What you do that
I'm saluted when I walk the street
D
With them shooters that'll shoot
it if you talkin' sweet
Hundred dollar gun in your mouth,
Am
nigga talk is cheap
Better warn the creep,
I ain't with procrastinatin'
How I leave him shakin',
D
you would swear he mad impatient
It ain't my fault that damn
Mary straggled datin'
Want me to come pat her on the back
Am
like congratulations
Nathan, I be stupid with them lyrics
These scoobies is the sickest,
I can do it with the biggest
D
You should do it and commit it
Why?
Cause the only way you kill a track
is if you shot the producer
while he did it
What about it?
Am
Louie to my fitted,
I be cooler than some fridges
Fridges
Admit it I'm hot,
but my jewelry looking fridges
D
Bling Glitter
Shit, even my jeweler couldn't get it
Why's that?
I'm buried in,
now you gotta pull me off this blizzard
Damn
Am
Dig it I'm nice, never seen in it twice
Seize it and make it stylish,
come to me for advice
Right
D
Nigga, you're swaggerless
Check out my swagger, miss
If this was a movie,
Am
I'm stuntin' like an action flick
Snap a pic, before I speed
off in an action whip
Action chick,
my pockets greener than asparagus
D
That ain't even half of it,
Am
D
I be with the bastard clique
That barely miss shit,
Am
they as accurate as the Mavericks
That's the casket, quick,
they ain't with the petty gimmicks
Like a gymnast on a beam,
D
they steady with it
At any minute, they squeeze and
won't leave any witness
They'll sit the box under a tree,
Am
Merry Christmas
Happy New Year's,
the truth's here, who cares?
When they hear that you there,
all they say is who cares?
D
I let the two flare,
if these little guys get fly
D
D
Am
Writers block, we ride or die, la da da
We Ride Or Die
J.R. Writer
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